


I might never be (your knight in shining armor)

by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Banter, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Saves Derek Hale, Warning: Jennifer Blake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 05:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17217518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchmoxie/pseuds/dearericbittle
Summary: So, in Stiles’ defence, he didn’t actually know that the woman harassing the dude-sel in distress was an actual witch. Or that the dude in question was an Alpha werewolf who claimed to be able to handle himself. Stiles agrees to disagree on that one.





	I might never be (your knight in shining armor)

It’s that time again. Super Stiles to the rescue!

He heads right for his dude-sel in distress. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you for ages.” 

Stiles smiles at the panicked stranger and cosies up to him in the most harmless way that he can think of. Because he does not want to freak the guy out even more, not like the pale-skinned and dark-haired woman who has been coming on to him for at least half a round of drinks now. Every time that Stiles has noticed the (hot, hot, so very hot) guy, the dude’s been taking a step back or side stepping some kind of overtly sexual overture from the same woman. She just keeps trying, like she expects his answer to change. 

The guy is warm where Stiles presses into his personal space just a little bit, and instead of freezing up, he seems to relax into Stiles. The dark-haired man loops an arm around his waist and starts playing with the belt loops on Stiles’ pants. 

(He is trying to keep calm and saving the memories for later, when he’s home alone and bemoaning his inability to score.)

“Derek?” The dark-haired woman is pretending not to get the hint. 

Well, at least he has a name to go off now. He can’t just go off nicknames the whole time. 

“Der, babe, I’m so sorry,” Stiles refuses to let her win. “Scotty distracted me with his latest love story and I couldn’t get away. You know what he’s like.” 

The stranger named Derek looks at him almost helplessly, so Stiles smiles at him again, because not everyone is a ridiculously good, practically pathological liar like him. As the sheriff’s son, he kinda had to get good at it at a pretty young age if he ever wanted to be able to leave the house again without an ankle monitor. 

“He’s super into Kira and he’s worried it isn’t mutual,” Stiles rolls his eyes. 

“It is,” Derek finally responds, tentatively, awkwardly. 

That earns Derek another soft smile, because Stiles is a dork who believes in positive reinforcement. “Exactly! You, me, and the entirety of Beacon Hills know that much.” 

This time Derek almost smiles in return, and Stiles feels his knees get a little bit weak at the sight of it. Because imperfectly perfect bunny teeth appear, and Derek’s eyes crinkle a little as he actually looks comfortable for once. And the smile is all for Stiles - he made that happen all by himself. 

It is his proudest accomplishment this week, or maybe even this month. Yes, he is fully aware he is mostly a tragic mess, thanks. 

“Derek?” The pale woman is just not letting him - or this - go. 

From the way her eyes keep going to the drink next to Derek, he is reasonably sure that the drink in question is not in any way harmless. Ugh, this is why he probably should have paid better attention when Deaton was explaining the deal with potions. 

“Babe, you got me a drink,” he smiles confidently at Derek. “You’re the best.” 

Without a word, he grabs the frankly delicious-looking cocktail from Derek’s hand and takes a big gulp, pointedly staring down the witch across from him. Maybe challenging her is not exactly a great decision, but he can definitely hold his own, at least a little. He has a cast-iron stomach and just enough of a magical spark to almost negate the effects of several different types of basic potions. (And this girl seems like a basic witch at first glance)

Well, he hasn’t tested his immunity to love potions yet, but he’s about to find out. Or at least, he assumes that it’s going to be a love potion. If it’s another lust potion, he should be fine to get home and jack off a ton. He’s been there before, he can do it again. 

“Why would you-?” Derek snags the glass from him before he can take another drink. “You have absolutely no self-preservation skills.” 

That sounds just like an overprotective boyfriend, and he thinks the first part isn’t even really a stretch for Derek - it’s the boyfriend to Stiles bit that requires the acting. And so far Derek is not all that great at the acting. There are definitely no Academy Awards in his future. 

“Of course not,” Stiles remains determined to keep the ruse going for as long as he possibly can. “You should remember that by now. But you know I’m tougher than I look.” 

Anyone who would actually be foolish enough to date him would know that. Because while he can be ridiculously impulsive about some things, he is also often the brains behind the operation. He’s a damn deputy - he’s good at making connections and tactical plans. 

“You’re an idiot,” Derek tells him, now actually sounding like a long-suffering boyfriend. 

Stiles means to congratulate him on his improved acting skills, but he stops himself in time because the witch still hasn’t left, seemingly just to see if someone is going to finish that drink. Or just to find out if it’ll have an effect on Stiles. 

Probably the latter. She’s got scientific curiosity written all over her. That and evil. 

“Had to protect you,” he knows his voice is starting to slur. “Mostly immune, remember?” 

So, okay, clearly he is not completely immune, because he can feel a looseness to his limbs, can feel his spark pressing eagerly against the walls he’s built up to keep somewhat of a lid on his powers. Those walls are crumbling rather easily, inhibitions lowered by whatever was in that stupid cocktail. He can taste ozone on his tongue, his spark desperately trying to reach out and retaliate against that witch. 

Meanwhile, Derek pointedly throws the rest of the drink into a conveniently placed potted plant and pretends not to notice as it wilts dramatically. Stiles tries not to drool too obviously, because he absolutely has a competence and/or grace under pressure kink. And an unmatched ability to put his foot in his mouth even on his best days. 

“Werewolf, remember?” Derek holds Stiles up as his knees buckle. “I’m your Alpha. That means I protect you.” 

And that’s new information, right? Because Derek is not nearly as obvious as Scott is about the whole wolf thing. Of course, Scott just really sucks at subterfuge, so being less obvious than Scott is not something to be particularly proud of. 

Scott is kind of a terrible wolf, which is why Stiles is kinda super overprotective of him and everyone else in their little makeshift pack. And everyone else he thinks might need his help in any way. Including Alpha werewolves who have found themselves in a witch’s crosshairs for some reason. 

That stupid protective tendency is why he’s currently feeling rather floaty and weird, and really disappointed about not being able to properly introduce himself to the incredibly strong werewolf who is taking all of his weight like he weighs about as much as a teddy bear. 

Which is really hot and he is a bisexual disaster who can’t handle shit like that. Because it just does not happen, not to him. 

“Still doesn’t mean I can’t protect you,” Stiles slurs, stubborn until the very end. “That’s what Stilinski men do. It’s in the rules. Dad says so.” 

His thoughts are starting to get a little more fuzzy too, which means that the potion was way stronger than it needed to be, even for an Alpha werewolf. Which means that it will take him a bit longer than expected to draw the excess magic into his system, and he might not be able to absorb all of it without feeling some of the intended effects of the potion. 

“You’re an idiot,” Derek tells him yet again, and somehow it just comes out sounding a bit awed and fond instead of completely frustrated. 

That fine line between exasperation and fondness is where he lives. 

“You like me,” Stiles is triumphant, because fake boyfriend means Derek fake likes him. “You like dorky Stiles. You like protective Stiles. You like Stiles.” 

He can still do the words putting into sentence thing. A little bit. Even though his head hurts a whole lot and his limbs won’t do the move-y thing. 

Words are hard. 

“Stiles?” Derek is making him stare into his eyes. 

So hard. 

His mouth is gaping awkwardly, but he has to tell Derek. “Pretty.” 

Embarrassing. Bad. No, Stiles. Bad Stiles. 

And then, just fog. Hazy fog. Hazy thoughts. Potion working. 

_ She’s beautiful. He loves her. He wants to tell her everything. Because he loves her.  _

Fuck no. She’s evil. He doesn’t love her. He doesn’t know her. 

_ He loves  _ \- no. 

And so he wrangles his spark and wholeheartedly believes in his own thoughts, instead of the thoughts that the potion is trying to push into his head. His spark has always worked off his belief, his faith. 

The true voice in the back of his mind is slowly returning. It’s telling him he’s making a spectacle of himself in front of maybe half the town. It’s probably the half that knows about magic and all that stuff, but still. Awkward. Really awkward. 

“I’m back,” he grins at Derek, trying to prove how fucking fine he is. 

“I’m taking you home,” Derek responds angrily. 

Maybe it’s because Derek is still carrying most of his weight - even though his mind is completely his own again, his limbs are still a bit unsteady because they’re shaking off the stupid impulse to just go to whoever the fuck that woman is and do something that proves his love for her. Which, ugh. 

“You going to carry me like the Disney prince you are?” Stiles is absolutely goading him. 

This is not where he thought the whole dude-sel in distress thing was going, but he really can’t argue with him ending up in Derek’s strong arms. Like, sure, he’d hoped to be the hero of this little tale (he so rarely gets to be the hero) but he can work with this little role reversal because Derek is interesting and he’d like to see a whole lot more of him. 

“If you can keep the dog jokes to a minimum.” (How does he know? Seriously!)

Derek easily lifts him in a bridal carry. “And you call your father to deal with her before she actually gets a wolf to drink one of those.” 

Okay, so Scott is going to see this and after he kills himself laughing about this, he is going to send Stiles so many knowing texts about his manhandling kink. Damn it he can never get drunk around Scott again if he keeps revealing this embarrassing shit. Scott has way too much dirt on him, and unless the guy starts dating Kira (which, fucking finally), he has no one to impart his dirt on. Because mutually assured embarrassment. 

“I needed an Alpha,” the witch tries to defend herself. 

Stiles huffs from his comfy position. “Oh, great, so you have standards when it comes to whose mind you feel the need to toy with? Really, I’m so proud of you. Not. I already texted my dad and he has a special cell waiting for you with a seriously annoying Druid to keep you from doing anything you shouldn’t.” 

Ugh, he almost feels sorry for the witch, because spending hours on end with Deaton is not something he wishes upon anyone. The cryptic comments alone! But still, this one definitely deserves the frustration that comes with hanging around Deaton. 

Derek seems to agree with that, his jaw tight as he carries Stiles away from the nameless witch. He should probably have bothered with getting a name, but he knows that his father will pick up the slack when he books her. 

How Stiles knows that she’ll stay put until she gets arrested? The fact that there are several wolves glaring her into submission (he thinks they’re from Derek’s pack), plus Lydia and her hellhound boyfriend have been watching Stiles’ attempt at a rescue. And Lydia may not be the love of his life, but she sure as hell is not going to let anyone hurt him. 

“Stiles,” Scott finds them, ready to embarrass him. “Have you been playing hero again?” 

That seems to interest Derek - probably the again part which implies that he sticks his fragile human neck out to save people all the damn time. Which is accurate. And yes, he also embarrasses himself and his friends a lot while doing it - not that he gives a fuck about shame these days. Does he even have that, shame? His dad would disagree. 

Stiles pointedly gestures at Derek, still carrying him. “Saved Alpha my Alpha here.”

“Saved?” Derek is skeptical. “You drank a potion and almost fell on your ass.” 

Okay, he is not going to be in Derek’s arms while they’re having this discussion. He feels a lot better already, and if he does get unsteady on his feet, Scott will probably have his back or he can just bruise his ass (and his battered pride). 

He makes Derek release him by force of will, not strength, because clearly Derek has the superior strength here. So he stands on his own two feet and pretends not to need the support of the chair he’s conveniently next to. Yes, he feels a lot better than he did a few minutes ago, but he kind of drained a lot of his energy fighting the potion. 

Still he is going to stand up to Derek, because clearly he needs that. “You looked uncomfortable, and no one was stepping up. So I did. You’re welcome, babe.” 

That last word is almost an insult, because if he did not want to be rescued, then why the fuck did he cuddle up to Stiles immediately? What, did Derek only want the convenient fake boyfriend parts of his rescue? Yeah, no, Stiles is the all in kind of guy. 

“Honey, you shouldn’t have,” Derek actually goes in for the banter. 

Scott is still listening, and apparently trying really hard not to laugh. What a friend, this guy. 

“Is your masculinity that fragile?” Stiles knows them’s fighting words, but he saved Derek’s ass and he does not deserve to be dismissed for it. “You’re grateful in the moment but then you have to prove you could have done it all by yourself?” 

Because if that’s the case, ugh. He’s seen guys like this way too often - Jackson fucking Whittemore comes to mind, back in high school when he was clearly overcompensating for something. Derek shouldn’t be one of them, but maybe he is - and he will just have to try not to get disappointed at that. Because it’s not like there’s anything there. 

“Stiles,” Derek actually uses his name. “You almost passed out. You could have just tossed the drink and we could have both walked out of there.” 

Well, fuck. He was not expecting Derek to have an actual decent argument. This is the point where he is supposed to tell Derek off about toxic masculinity and end the stupid fake boyfriend shtick once and for all. This is not the point where Derek cares about his safety for some reason and does not want him to risk life and limb. 

“You distracted me with your touching.” He is scrambling for a response. 

That makes Scott laugh as he wanders off, apparently ready to trust Derek with Stiles’ continued well-being. Which is probably not that big of a deal because Scott tends to have the attention span of an eager puppy, especially when Kira is around to distract him. 

“Was that a compliment?” Derek is too smart to let him get away with it. 

Stiles can play this game. “If you want it to be.” 

Yes, he’s into Derek. He’s decided, he’s just going to do the flirting thing and see if Derek goes along with it. He doesn’t really have anything to lose here, and Derek is gorgeous and sarcastic and protective and strong. So, yeah. 

“How about I get you home safely and we’ll go from there?” Derek is a sassy shit and Stiles is pretty damn into it. 

“I’m not that kinda boy,” Stiles teases, stumbling towards the exit. “I don’t even know your last name. And I don’t put out on the first date.” 

Lies. Vicious, vicious lies. But it’s good flirting. 

“This was not a date,” Derek has just decided this, apparently. “Dates don’t include you almost getting poisoned by a witch.” 

Well, that’s just boring. His life can be kind of out there with all of the supernatural crises around town. Sure, he doesn’t have a lot of experience with dating, but if any shenanigans exclude an outing from the date category… Well, he’d probably still be a dateless virgin. 

“What would a date include?” He is so close to getting Derek on board. 

“We can discuss that when you don’t have a magic hangover.”

He reluctantly agrees. For now. 

When their first date is crashed by a rogue omega, and their second date gets interrupted by pack business (fucking Peter), Derek finally agrees that they still count. 

Which means Stiles can finally take him home for real. 


End file.
